When All the Angels Have Gone
by e.vermillion
Summary: While the world deals with the abrupt loss of someone who changed it indefinitely, Seto Kaiba has to cope with his own feelings on the tragedy, as well as the person who had the most to lose. Rated T for character death, mild violence, & suggestive scenes
1. The Departure of Yugi Mutou

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of the characters in this story.

This story has been in the works for quite some time. As usual, I didn't have set chapters planned out, I just sorta wrote it, so it's always a pain in the ass to cut up. = = It's still in progress, and this particular chapter has been written for a while, so sorry if it's bad, haha. Oh, and I know the title is really bad, but I had nothing planned out. It sounds like a soap opera episode... If you review, I'd be willing to take suggestions for a better one.

Also, this story may or may not be yaoi... Sorry, I don't really know yet. I know something's going on there, but I don't know that it will ever become explicit.

Uhm... I think I'm done. ... Hope you enjoy! :D;

* * *

Seto grimaced darkly at the morning paper, unable to believe what he was reading, even after reading and re-reading it several times. It had been all over the morning news as well.

He looked away and drank deeply from his mug of black coffee. It was honestly hard to digest... His rival, his arch-nemesis, and the closest thing Seto had ever had to a friend...

Yugi Mutou was dead.

The day outside was unfittingly bright. It was the middle of spring, when two out of every three days in Domino was drenched in rain. The morning after Yugi's death just happened to be ideal weather.

Seto wondered vaguely how Yugi's gang was dealing with the news. He bit his lip, unable to help a stab of pity rising in his chest. Yugi had been their idol - for a time, he had been their reason for living. He had symbolized a strength and an undying selflessness for them that few had ever done before. Now there was not so much as a bone to bury, all of Yugi's body incinerated in the fiery plane crash that had killed not only him, but more than 150 other people. The odds of a plane crash were astronomical, and yet Yugi had just happened to be...

The young CEO shook his head and set down his empty mug. He stood and turned off the TV, every word spoken by the on-site reporter like a needle in his stomach. He pulled on his jacket and glanced up the stairs as he entered the foyer; Mokuba would be up in a few hours and hear the news...

Seto left the mansion soundlessly and set off on his commute to work, worried for Mokuba's reaction. Hell, he was worried for Yugi's friends as well, as little as they would have believed if they heard it. Although, there was one person in particular he was especially worried for - someone who was indeed still alive, but now indefinitely missing half of his soul. But he wouldn't have to worry about seeing them, much less consoling them - if even Yugi alive couldn't make them think well of him, Yugi dead couldn't possibly do much more. The only person he had to worry about was Mokuba...

The call Seto was dreading came only an hour after he'd started the workday at Kaiba Corp.

The day had already started out badly enough. Seto had not even considered how the media would draw on his tumultuous relationship with the deceased duelist, but the idea was abruptly brought to mind as soon as he had pulled up to Kaiba Corp. tower.

A swarm of reporters descended on his car as soon as he had pulled into the parking lot, and he had only been able to park and get out of the car because the only things these vultures valued more than a story was their lives.

Security finally made themselves useful and Seto was barely able to push through the throng to the sliding doors without so much as a 'no comment' to the clamoring mass.

Once inside, he'd snapped at the few employees oblivious enough to offer a 'good morning' as he made his way to the elevator, and then spent the next hour or so in his office getting absolutely no work done, unable to concentrate on his work for more than five minutes at a time.

He was about to give up on working alone to call a consultant when his intercom beeped.

"Mr. Kaiba?" the intercom said in his secretary's voice, "your brother is on line one. He says he needs to speak with you right away."

Seto eyed the blinking red light on the phone and sighed.

Mokuba's incoherent voice was spilling from the earpiece even before Seto had it up to his ear.

"Mokuba," Seto said evenly, "Mokuba, calm down." He didn't have to raise his voice much - when he was serious about his commands, he usually never needed to repeat himself.

When Seto was silent for a moment, Mokuba burst out again, "Seto, Yugi is _dead_!! Don't you even care?!" he shouted. His words were sharp, and had it not been for Seto's familiarity with Mokuba's adolescent angst, it might have actually hurt his feelings.

"I understand how you must be feeling," he said, and raised his voice a little over Mokuba as he began to argue, "but getting hysterical about this won't solve anything."

"..." For a moment, all Seto heard on the other end were the stifled sobs and sniffles from Mokuba. Now Seto was unsure of what to say - a rare occurrence.

"I'm..." he began unsteadily, unsure of where he was going, "I'm as shocked as you are, Mokuba. I... I can't believe it happened either..." he trailed off. Mokuba's silence didn't sound very convinced, even though Seto _was_ giving him the actual truth.

"... We'll talk more when I get home okay?" Seto sighed.

_Sniff._ "Can you come home now?"

"..."

"Seto?"

"Alright." Seto muttered, glancing over at his screen as he closed his barely-worked-on file, "I'll save this work for later. I-..." He broke off. He had been about to tell Mokuba about his inability to work anyway, but he wasn't able to admit to it. His pride wouldn't allow it.

"...I'll see you soon." Seto finished, hanging up after Mokuba muttered a short 'good-bye'.

The young CEO leaned back in his chair, sighing and fisting a hand in his hair. He reflected quietly on Mokuba's words.

_"Don't you even care?!"_

Seto swallowed a lump in his throat and gathered his scattered papers. Of course he cared - it had been two years since he's last dueled Yugi... Hard to believe it would never happen again.

He leaned forward and pressed the intercom button, massaging his tired eyes with the other hand.

"Michiru, I'm going home early today. I'll finish those reports you sent me tomorrow."

"I understand, Mr. Kaiba," Michiru replied, with much more understanding in her voice than Seto wished to tolerate.

Biting his tongue, he snapped his briefcase shut and stood, suddenly feeling a little hollow in the pit of his stomach; maybe this loss would be a little harder than he thought.

* * *

Mokuba was still crying when Seto got home, red eyes plastered to the television screen as an anchor repeated the same news that had been streaming, non-stop, all over the other networks.

Seto stood in the doorway of the room.

"... That won't help either, you know." Seto said, echoing his words from earlier. They seemed to have helped then, but he had the feeling this trick wouldn't work twice.

He was right. Mokuba turned up the volume wordlessly.

"..."

Sitting next to his brother, Seto watched a montage of clips showing Yugi at his best, whether in dueling, humbly accepting an award, or some humanitarian exploit. Some of the film actually displayed _him_, but not many people could tell the difference for some reason...

"Why him, Seto?" Mokuba asked after several minutes of silence.

"It had to happen sooner or later, Mokuba." he replied, biting his tongue as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Seto Kaiba was not one to regret his words - he said what he meant and meant what he said, but sometimes, he knew he said some pretty asinine things, even unintentionally.

He received an incredulous look in turn, "I know that, Seto, but -- … never mind." Mokuba muttered, getting up and leaving the room. Seto watched his brother leave helplessly.

Mokuba was now in his teenage years, and so his emotions were more volatile than ever. Seto often found himself feeling agitated or simply unable to deal with Mokuba's mood swings. He was barely out of his teenage years himself – how was Seto supposed to take care of one properly? In addition to that, Mokuba's teenage days were far different from how Seto's had been. Aside from being an orphan (and a rich one at that), Mokuba led a practically normal adolescence, while Seto's had been… well, he didn't like to think about it.

Running a hand through his auburn hair, Seto shut off the TV and glanced out the window. Even from where he was, Seto could see the swarm of reporters beyond the gates around the grounds, cameras and microphones gleaming under the sunlight. He wondered vaguely if even a sudden monsoon would chase them away. The phone had been ringing nonstop, so it seemed Mokuba had disconnected the lines.

Looking back toward the foyer, Seto sighed guiltily and internally debated whether he should follow Mokuba and try to talk to him. Then again, Seto had no idea what he would say, and whenever Seto went in half-cocked, all that he usually accomplished was instigating a shouting match. Speaking to Mokuba when he was like this was impossible.

With all of the complications piling up, today was shaping out to be one of the worst days in Seto's memory, which was saying something. He was quickly developing a migraine, and the thought of confronting any one of his problems was enough to make Seto's temples throb. And it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

A sudden vibration in his pocket made Seto jump. He pulled his cell phone out and stared at the unfamiliar number on the screen.

"Damn it, if one of those shit-slingers got my number…" he growled to himself. He wasn't in a very good mood and he'd be only too happy to tear off some heads. Not without a hint of malice, Seto snapped open his phone.

"Kaiba here, _what?_" he said sharply; no, not in a very good mood at all.

"Kaiba?"

Seto's throat clenched uncomfortably. He'd been ready to end some lives, he had not been prepared for the stuffed up, timid voice of Anzu Mazaki. Great, more guilt.

"M-Mazaki," Seto murmured, "I-I…" For the second time that day, Seto had no idea what to say – he'd obviously never been good with consolations…

"What is it?" he asked, and again felt as though he were speaking with a total lack of sympathy. He could tell she'd been crying a lot, and while his tone hadn't come out that harsh, his words always came out more callous than Seto intended them.

"It's, uhm… It's Yami," she said quietly, then sniffled before continuing, "He's gone…"

Seto sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"I see. Ah… Do you… have any idea where he might be?" he asked, a little uncertain about what she expected him to do about it. He hadn't spoken to any of Yugi's friends in months, so as far as he knew, none of them could be thinking much better of him. Seto could only imagine how desperate they must be to resort to contacting him.

"No. But… we're calling everyone just in case…" she replied, "He… he was really silent all day, he wouldn't say anything, since he felt Yugi g-g-…" Seto heard her inhale sharply.

"It's alright, Mazaki, I understand. I'll keep an eye out, and I'll make sure my men do too." Seto said.

"Oh…" Anzu sounded a little surprised, Seto noted with a trace of bitter amusement, "Thank you, Kaiba."

"I'll make some calls, then call you back if I hear anything, all right?" he said, pushing his hair back with one hand.

"Alright, thanks again," she said conclusively.

Seto suddenly felt obligated to say one more thing.

"Mazaki," he said hurriedly, "I'm sorry." He said before he could over-think it. He felt like he'd stumbled over the words a bit, and for a moment he thought she'd hung up on him.

Then, "You… have nothing to apologize for," Anzu replied, her voice choked. "Thank you, once again." She said, and hung up before Seto could say any more.

"…" Seto lowered the phone and exhaled slowly. He hadn't hesitated to say he'd help – he'd felt _obligated_ to do so. It was what any decent person would have done - and that, at the very least, Seto was, despite what critics might say.

It was what Yugi would have done.

Seto reopened his phone – he had calls to make.

* * *

Huzzah! I now have two, count 'em, TWO stories up! :D

Review, if you please.


	2. The Appearance of Yami Yugi

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, blehblehbleh...

An update so soon? From the Queen of Inactive Stories?? What is this???

Well, this is... me being prepared for once. :D I'm really excited about this chapter, because I edited it a lot from what was written initially. The original scenario was pretty bad. It was a little like a porno. = = Thankfully, this one is less so (hopefully). I don't want to spoil it for you, but I'll talk about it a little at the end.

Enjoy - I worked really hard on this chapter, and it's wayyy longer than my usual stuff. CB

**WARNING:** This chapter contains some mildly suggestive mildly homosexual scenes (nothing at all hardcore though), and an ass-ton of swearing. I apologize if that's not what you wanted in this story, but there's the back button. This has been your **WARNING! D:**

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Seto heard someone slamming on his front door. Mokuba was asleep and Seto had been uncharacteristically concerned about the affairs of Yami Mutou, calling around every thirty minutes or so for news; there hadn't been any.

Seto was beginning to think Yami might do something brash – that could only lead to more pain for those who loved him, not to mention more trouble for Seto. In a strange, disconnected way, Seto wanted Yami to stay safe. After all, Yami and Yugi had always done everything in their power to make sure Seto's own foolish actions didn't lead him to an early grave. Then, Seto couldn't imagine what Yami must've been feeling. Yugi had been more than a brother – he had literally been a part of his soul. Losing something like that… Seto had never really understood the mechanics of Yami and Yugi's connection. He had only ever pieced together bits of fact from conversations, and listened to Mokuba's theories and speculations. At the time of Yugi's death, Seto was still subconsciously looking for a logical explanation to Yami's very physical existence. Thinking about it now, Seto realized with a twinge of something like guilt that Yami had probably realized Yugi was gone the instant it had happened, that he had likely felt the presence of his best friend just disappear, and known that he was suddenly alone…

Seto sat in the living room lost in thought, slouched in an armchair with his phone clutched in one hand, his eyes staring raptly into the vacant fireplace. The suddenness and the force of the knock on the door startled Seto. He eyed the door for a moment before the knock (if you could call it that) came again, harder this time if at all possible.

Seto stood stiffly, and wondered apprehensively whether some loony reporter had finally broken through security, or whether perhaps it was someone's intent to add another duelist to the obituaries for the week. Cautiously, Seto went over to the door and opened it, steeling himself for anything - or so he thought. Seto was astonished to see the very object of so many peoples' search standing before him.

Yami was stooped in the doorframe, looking at Seto through unfocused crimson eyes. He looked drained somehow, and smelled unmistakably of alcohol.

"Mutou," Seto murmured, stunned, "Are you alright? Where the hell have you been? How did you get past security?" he snapped suddenly, not a second passing between each of the questions.

Yami glowered at Seto, "Take it easy, mom," He said lowly, pushing past the brunet into the house, stumbling slightly on the doorstep. Apparently too impaired to remember any of the former questions, he only answered the last.

"But really, Kaiba, if I can get in here fucking drunk, I think you need to fire that half-ass security of yours…" he slurred.

Seto watched him evenly. He was a bit taken aback by Yami's sarcasm and his sudden rudeness. He may have been drunk, but Seto didn't actually think Yami was capable of being such an ass – apparently, he'd thought wrong.

Seto shut the door, fleetingly wondering why Yami would go through so much trouble just to invade his home, but he decided not to dwell on it. Instead, he decided to stall until he could call someone to come pick up this mess.

"At least you know you're plowed," Seto said, and tried to steer Yami into the living room by his shoulder, but the other man flung him off.

"Don't touch me, Kaiba," he snarled loudly.

Seto raised his hands and sighed again.

"Shut your inebriated mouth, Mutou, there are people in bed at this hour." He said.

Almost immediately, Yami's expression changed. His features went from rigid and angry to soft and pensive in a second.

"Mokuba," Yami said quietly, "How is he…?"

Seto stared at him.

"He's… fine." He suddenly felt a stab of pity for Yami. In dealing with his intoxicated attitude, Seto had somehow forgotten why Yami was even in this state.

"…"

"… Mutou, if you sit down in the living room, I'll get you something _dry_ to drink." Seto said after a moment.

Yami conceded without another word.

When Seto returned from the kitchen with a coffee for his intruder, he saw Yami had made himself at home on the leather couch centered right in front of the big screen, now blaring the day's top story.

"--EXPECTED TO BE A PRIVATE MEMORIAL FOR THE BELOVED DUELIST AND HUMANITARIAN--"

"Christ, Mutou!" Seto growled, setting down the drink in front of Yami to turn off the TV.

Looking at the pitiful wreck on the couch, Seto realized he'd missed a chance to call Anzu.

"Drink your coffee." Seto said, pocketing the remote (he was counting on Yami being too smashed to turn on the TV manually), "I'll be back, I've got a call to make."

"You know what it's like, right?" Yami blurted at Seto's back.

Seto halted halfway to the door.

"What?" he sighed, looking back at Yami.

"Being incomplete," Yami said, looking back at Seto, his eyes startlingly sharp for someone so apparently drunk.

Seto was stunned for a moment, but in usual Kaiba fashion, regrouped almost instantaneously.

"I'm afraid I've never been able to decipher any of your psycho metaphorical lingo, Mutou, but –"

"I know you do," Yami said, "You're the most damaged person I know."

Taken aback again by this sudden statement, Seto felt his throat constrict. Where was this coming from?

"You don't know the first thing about me." Seto replied steadily.

Yami laughed aloud, and somehow the sound almost hurt Seto. Yami persisted,

"You have money and power, and even Mokuba, but since I first met you, I knew you'd lost a part of yourself that you can't get back."

"…"

"You put up this front to hide your emotional scars, and you wear your coats to hide the physical ones, but we all know they're there…" Yami said, his eyes piercing.

Seto was at a loss for words again that day. He didn't know whether he was more affronted, or… shocked.

"That's why I came here, after all," Yami pressed on, "Tell me how to fill this hole, Kaiba…"

For a moment, it seemed as though Seto had no reply to the startling prompt. Was Yami only goading him? Was he in such emotional pain to want to watch someone else squirm? Or could these be honest inquiries…?

"… You… need to stop being such a selfish bastard, Mutou." Seto said suddenly.

"What?" It was Yami's turn to look disquieted. Seto was leering at him with something very akin to disgust on his face, a look he'd rarely had reason to give Yami Mutou before.

"All your friends are worried fucking sick about you, and you're getting drunk off your ass when you should be there for them!" Seto snapped, "You think you're the only one who lost Yugi, but you're not. I'm not demeaning your relationship with him in any way, but all of the others are hurting just as much as you are, and your acting like a child is only going to hurt everyone more. I know you must feel disoriented and that you're in pain, though I won't pretend I know what exactly you're going through. However, I can tell you that if you're going to find comfort anywhere, it won't be in trying to instigate fights and it definitely won't be at the bottom of a fucking bottle."

Yami looked at the brunet as though he had hit him.

"I'm going to call your friends. Clean yourself up before they get here." Seto said coolly, lowering his voice again.

"…"

Seto turned and walked out to make the call in the kitchen, but didn't turn around, even after hearing the footsteps behind him.

He leaned on the counter and had the phone in his hand when it was grabbed from him and audibly thrown to the floor. Seto spun around to find himself all but pinned to the counter. Yami was blocking Seto from moving, one arm on either side of him, hands flat on the counter. Only now did Seto notice how much Yami had grown into his body – he was practically as tall as Seto now, and his gravity-defying hair made him indefinitely as tall. He had matured a lot in the years since he'd lived in Domino, and instead of Yugi's twin, he now looked like a much older brother.

All that aside, Seto wanted to know what the hell Yami was doing.

"I hope you have a polite explanation for that," Seto said darkly.

He could smell the sharp alcohol on Yami, and Seto really wished now that Yami had drank at least a little of the coffee.

"What the hell did you drink?" Seto asked. The edge of the counter was digging into his back, but he couldn't move. Honestly, he didn't want to risk setting Yami off by touching him, let alone pushing him away.

"Kaiba," Yami began, crimson eyes sharp again.

"Mutou, if all we're going to be doing is having civilized conversation, then kindly get off," Seto said, then smirked a little, "you know I bruise like a peach –"

"_Stop it!_" Yami cut Seto off, slamming one fist into the cupboard by Seto's head. Seto's grin faded, but he watched Yami evenly. His rival had never been a violent person, but Seto knew very well what alcohol did to people, and wasn't sure what to expect.

"You…" Yami started, eyes narrowing, "fucking piss me off…"

Seto opened his mouth to respond, but before he got a word out, the taste of salt and alcohol was hot in his mouth. It took his mind a scrambled couple of moments to realize why.

"Mmn… nnf!" Seto broke away from the abrupt kiss, bending his back painfully on the counter to gain some distance.

"—the fuck?!" Seto gasped, one arm bent in front of him to guard against another sudden advance.

Yami seemed satisfied, and even amused by Seto's reaction. That gave him license to try again, apparently.

"You're going to regret this later…" Seto said, averting his face, breathless despite the brevity of the kiss.

"What makes you say that?" Yami replied quietly, roughly grabbing the brunet's chin and forcing their eyes to meet.

"Because…" Seto glared as Yami thumbed his lower lip, "you're drunk, you asshole. This isn't what you want."

Seto had been hoping to calm Yami down a bit, but his wrists were suddenly grabbed and slammed into the cupboards above.

"Don't tell me what I do and don't want," Yami said lowly, pinning Seto's wrists hard.

"Damn it, Yami, do you even realize what you're doing?!"

The young CEO grimaced at Yami. Where could this possibly be originating from? What did… sexually advancing on Seto have to do at all with Yugi's death, or even coping with it? This couldn't possibly be Yami at all.

Yami had probably already forgotten Mokuba was in the house. Would he still persist if Seto yelled for help? But what would happen when Mokuba ran downstairs to see one of his role models and best friends assaulting his older brother…? Seto knew Mokuba would be left confused and disillusioned, and he didn't want to do that to him. In addition to that, Seto had already underestimated a drunken Yami… what if he tried to hurt himself or Mokuba?

Multiple variables raced through Seto's mind as Yami stared him down. He needed to think fast, as he was quickly losing feeling in his lower body. His legs tingled painfully. He realized he was in no position to help Yami, and no closer to getting him back to his friends. He had to at least get out from under him.

"Yami," Seto breathed, trying to keep a level head, though in reality it was reeling, "Yugi wouldn't have wanted--"

Suddenly, Yami released one of Seto's wrists to hit him, and hard. The brunet tasted blood as his head snapped to the side.

"Don't you dare to presume you know what Yugi would have wanted, above me…" he murmured, flexing his fingers. He had bruised his knuckles with the force of the blow. "This has nothing to do with him."

Seto looked back at Yami, blood from his nose running freely into his mouth.

"It has everything to do with him… Why else would you be here?" Seto muttered, bracing himself on the counter with his now free hand.

Yami seemed surprised by the question, as if it was something he had never really thought about.

Seto realized that this may be his only chance -- using all the strength he could gather, he fisted his free hand and swung it into Yami's temple. The former pharaoh stumbled back, and Seto braced himself on the countertop to kick Yami back into the opposite counter using both legs.

Yami groaned as he hit the counter and clung to it, dazed from Seto's punch.

However, Seto wasn't in much better shape. The pain of using his stiff legs so soon and so hard sent him to his knees on the cold kitchen floor.

"Shit," he gasped, looking at his phone some distance away from him on the floor. He crawled towards it. If anything, he had to call Anzu. He couldn't let Yami do anything he would regret tomorrow.

Just a little further to go…

But then relief was suddenly as distant as it had been moments ago. With an angry growl, Yami tackled Seto to the floor. Seto gasped and swung his elbow backwards towards Yami's head, but Yami evaded it and he struck the side of the counter instead. Seto doubled over in pain, and Yami took the opportunity to fling Seto onto his back by the shoulder. Seto's head struck the tile, hard, dazing him long enough for Yami to pin either of Seto's arms with his knees and sit back on his stomach. He glared down into Seto's startled and pained blue eyes heatedly.

"Yami," Seto panted, letting his head drop back onto the floor after a small and futile effort to escape, "How far do you intend to take this…?"

"As far as it takes before I'm satisfied…" Yami said lowly, placing either hand on the floor beside Seto's head.

Yami's eyes were shockingly sharp and the crimson irises were alight with something like anger. Seto stared back. He couldn't understand why he had picked him. Why he had chosen someone who had had nothing to do with his life for the past several months? Why had he 'chosen' anyone at all…?

His long-time rival then reached up to the countertop where Seto could not see, but he had a sinking feeling he knew what Yami was reaching for. The metallic reverberation of steel sliding out of wood confirmed Seto's fears before he saw it. Yami had pulled a long stainless steel kitchen knife from above the counter, and he looked down at Seto with it clutched in his hand. Seto swallowed, and his numbing arms strained to get out from under Yami's sharp knees.

"Mutou, stop. Y-Yami," Seto breathed, his voice breaking against his will as Yami brought the knife level with Seto's chin. Unwanted memories bubbled to the surface of Seto's mind as the blade flashed at him, and his muscles tensed with the promise of a familiar pain. He couldn't believe this was happening again, after all the promises he'd made to himself to never let it -- "Yami--!" Seto's breath hitched as Yami began a swift movement toward his chest with the knife.

When all he felt was a tug around his chest, he looked down, exhaling shakily. Yami was cutting the thread holding the buttons on his shirt slowly, one by one. Yami smirked at Seto, and had the nerve to laugh.

"You should see the look on your face…" he chuckled, and raised the knife to brush a strand of hair out of Seto's eyes. Anger frothed within Seto, and for a moment, he wished to throw all abandon out the window and do everything he could to kill Yami.

"Fuck you," Seto snarled, whipping his head away from the knifepoint, but the sudden movement so close to the knife drew a line of blood across the top of his left eyebrow. He inhaled sharply, and glared back at Yami, who he was shocked to see looked suddenly troubled.

"You moron," Yami muttered, thumbing the skin next to the cut in a surprisingly careful way.

"Me?!!" Seto snapped, the closest he had been to hysterics yet.

"Don't move," Yami said, brandishing the knife further away from Seto's face, "you always seem to know exactly how to do yourself the most harm," And then he went back to cutting away Seto's buttons, leaning up on the young CEO's arms to cut away the buttons down the rest of his abdomen.

As the last white button tore off and rolled away, Seto's shirt slipped open, revealing a slim body and pale, scar-riddled skin. The brunet cringed, looking away from Yami as color stole across his face.

"What exactly are you d-" Seto flinched as Yami traced the thicker scars on his skin lightly with the tip of the knife, "… doing?"

"Not sure yet…" Yami said, and bent down to so he was almost nose-to-nose with Seto, "I was planning on fooling around with you until I sobered up."

"Yami…"

"Stop talking," Yami said, pressing his knees into Seto's arms so hard that the other man groaned in pain, "you only get yourself in more trouble."

Tears of pain sprang to Seto's eyes as tendons in his arms were displaced. He was fed up, frankly, and too weak to do anything in this position, he either had to get into a better one, or coax Yami down.

Seto took a deep breath. He had no time to lose, as he realized Yami's free hand was undoing the fly on Seto's pants. However, he was very aware, as the light glinted off the knife in Yami's other hand, that the words he spoke next could very well be his last.

"… Yami, Yugi is dead,"

The man on top of him froze.

Seto took another breath, "He's dead, and nothing you do to me now will ever bring him back." he said, staring at the ceiling. He felt his chest and throat tighten in anxiety; he may have just killed himself. Yami raised his eyes to Seto's slowly. The vague stirring behind his rival's eyes let Seto know he had to keep talking.

"The only reason you came here," Seto continued, "is because you're angry, and I'm someone you can easily target all your anger at. That's my guess, anyway." Seto swallowed quietly, "Although, I don't see why you couldn't have just beat the hell out of me like a normal person… But as I said before, I have no idea what you're going through, and I understand you must be… inconsolable right now. I can't blame you. But your goddamn friends need you now, because I bet they're feeling pretty similarly, and I think… I think the last thing they need is to lose you too."

Seto was unsure, judging by the continued silence of his assailant, whether he should press on or not, but he followed his instincts and kept going. He had come this far anyway, and hey, what was the point in digging only half of a grave?

"All of that aside, if it really takes you humiliating and hurting me in my own house to make it all better, then go for it," he said evenly, "because if it were Mokuba instead of Yugi… I don't know that anyone could talk me out of killing the first poor bastard who crossed me."

As the strained silence pressed in on Seto's ears, for a moment it seemed as though nothing had gotten through to the other man. But suddenly, Seto felt a painful surge of feeling in his arms as Yami pulled back slightly.

"… But then," the young CEO winced, staring up at Yami, "you're not me, are you?"

Yami slipped off of Seto and dropped back against the island kitchen counter. He let the knife slip from his hands to the tile floor with a clatter.

Seto remained flat on his back, trying to steady his hammering pulse; he could only have hoped his words would get through… His arms stung wildly from the returning feeling, and his forearms felt cold from the lack of blood flow. He was sore all over, particularly his throbbing, stinging head and bloodied nose. Seto could already feel bruises forming all over.

He glanced over at Yami, whose head was in his arms, crossed over his knees. Despite all that had happened, Seto still wasn't sure that Yami had reconciled anything, but he had the feeling that all the alcohol in the world couldn't have made Yami hurt him seriously. However drunk, it really didn't seem in his capability.

Even so, both rivals were going to wake up with tremendous headaches tomorrow.

Seto's breathing betrayed how panicked he really had been, and still, he couldn't find the will or the strength to get up.

"… Are you alright?" Seto asked, directing the question at the ceiling and reaching up to press his hand against his bleeding forehead.

"How can you be asking me that after what I just… did to you…?" Yami said slowly. He sounded as though he was in physical pain, or about to be physically sick.

Seto laughed, "Oh, I'm fine -- knives, physical pain, I can take, as you saw." he said lowly. His grin faded slowly, and he finally looked over at Yami.

"… I'm not the one who lost my brother." Seto murmured.

"…"

"… Aren't you going to say anything?" the young CEO asked, "you can still yell if you've got it in you…"

Yami remained silent, but then sighed, and rubbed his face with both hands, "I… thought I had it in me to do a lot of things to you, but… apparently not."

Seto finally sat up slowly, attempting to wipe blood off of his chin and nose with his sleeve as he did so. His open and disheveled blue button-up was stained purple in places. Yami looked over at the other man again, and took in his battered appearance.

"Christ…!" Yami said, getting up unsteadily and grabbing a roll of paper towels, "I'm sorry," He crouched down next to Seto and pressed a few sheets to his forehead. Abruptly and involuntarily, Seto flinched away rather violently.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, before Seto looked away quickly and took the towels from Yami; he hadn't wanted Yami to know how much he had really rattled him. He could feel Yami's gaze lower to his numerous scars.

"… I'm sorry again, Kaiba." Yami said.

"It's fine," Seto said, a surprisingly poor imitation of his usual clipped and brisk tone. He avoided Yami's eyes. "Just… if you're going drinking again any time soon, make sure it's somewhere out of the vicinity of my house." he sighed.

For the first time since he showed up, Yami cracked a genuine smile.

"… Are you going to be alright then?" Seto asked quietly, chancing a glance in Yami's direction.

"I don't know," Yami responded, rubbing his temples.

"… Your coffee is probably cold by now. I'm going to call Mazaki, but I'll make you a new one in the meantime," Seto said, picking up the knife and getting shakily to his feet.

Before he had taken two steps, the back of his shirt was caught in Yami's hand.

"Don't call her. Or Jou. Or any of them…" he said, glowering up at Seto.

"Why the hell not?" Seto asked, exasperated, "We talked about this, they need--"

"I know, but I can't let them see me like this," Yami said.

Seto snorted, "But you have no problem showing up to _me_ hammered, and--…" Seto broke off at the look Yami gave him. "… Fine," he conceded, "but you're going back tomorrow, and very likely with a bitch of a hangover."

Yami nodded slowly and stood up.

Seto sighed, "You can take the couch. And don't watch any TV."

* * *

Goodness, that was long. Must be all those tricky little quotations. Hopefully I'm getting a little better about filling out chapters more.

Anyway, if you're interested, the chapter evolved a lot since it's conception. **Initially**, Yami came in and blah blah - well, the beginning is pretty much the same. But instead of becoming physically violent with Seto, in the original, Yami is more sexually violent. I really liked that, but for the purposes of the story, there was really no reason for Yami to get so obsessive so soon, especially when I had no explanation for it. So in this version, Seto gets a little more bloodied up, which I also like, and it's a bit better than Yami just randomly about to rape Seto. It seems less like a horny middle-schooler wrote it.

But only a little.

Read and review please! I appreciated all the faves and alerts from last chapter. I hope you guys especially enjoyed this chapter! :3


	3. The Return to Yugitachi

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, or any of the characters within. So there.

I got a couple of watches! Whee~! I know I may be updating too much, too fast, but I'm really excited about this story. It's really fun, and I like altering a lot from the original written copy. It makes me feel like I've improved.

I can dream, right? Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

The following morning, Seto was very wary of going down the stairs. He wasn't sure how Yami would react to seeing him again after such an awkward night.

Following the minor incident in the kitchen, Yami had proceeded into the living room, deliberately disobeyed Seto's instructions not to turn on the television, and thrown up all over Seto's black leather couch halfway through an incoherent crying jag. Upon taking the remote away once more and unplugging the widescreen, Seto had barely dodged a flying crystal ashtray, which had shattered into several miniscule, dangerous pieces on the wall behind his head. Subsequently, Yami was just lucky he was crying and vomiting again, because Seto may have just disemboweled him.

Seto had stayed up till 3 am scrubbing the liquidy mess off the couch while Yami all but passed out on the opposite one. He didn't even stir when Seto ran the vacuum to pick up all the pieces of the broken ashtray. Around 4:30, tired and smelling vaguely of Yami's puke, Seto climbed the stairs in the foyer up to his room, where, in a rather painful affair, he undressed, leaving his ripped and slightly bloody clothes strewn about as he walked to the shower. Figuring he wouldn't get much sleep no matter what, Seto took a hot, longer than usual shower, washing away the smell of dried blood, sweat, and vomit. He let the near-scalding water cascade carelessly down his body, and his muscles relaxed slightly in the heat. He supposed that the relief was enough to face whatever the following day held.

Without at wink of sleep at 6 am, Seto dressed, checked on a still slumbering Mokuba, and climbed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he was a little surprised to see Yami with his head on the island counter, sitting on a stool.

Seto paused at the door before going to turn on the coffee pot. Yami didn't even look up as Seto went through his ritual morning preparation.

"You're up early," the brunet finally said, bypassing the extremely inappropriate 'good morning' as he pulled two coffee mugs from the kitchen cabinet. The former pharaoh raised his head to look at Seto, and the young CEO thought to himself that he'd seen happier faces on death row inmates.

"You look like shit." Seto said tactfully.

"You're one to talk," Yami muttered back, rubbing his eyes. Seto chuckled.

"Coffee?" he continued as the pot beeped at him.

"Do you have any pain-killers?" Yami asked. He sounded hoarse. Seto raised his eyebrows.

"For hangovers or massive migraines? There is a distinction." Seto said helpfully, pouring Yami a cup of coffee. Yami shook his head once, looked as though he immediately regretted it, and put his head back down. Absently, Seto poured himself a cup and added creamer after handing Yami two pills.

"How many times did I throw up?" Yami said after swallowing the two pills, slightly muffled through his arms. Seto looked at him, and supposed Yami couldn't have kept track of that sort of thing in his state.

"I don't recall." he sighed, and turned to turn on the stove, "Three times, maybe. Would you like some eggs?"

In response, Yami made a choked sound and covered his mouth. Seto shielded a slightly vindictive smirk behind his coffee cup. He felt bad for dicking around with this Yami when he really only had beef with the drunk Yami, but unlike Yami and Yugi, there wasn't a physical difference. Seto was inwardly glad the morning hadn't been as awkward as he had anticipated.

"Uhm, I… never thanked you for last night, Kaiba," Yami said after taking a rather large swig of his black coffee. Seto opened his fridge in search of something to cook for the both of them.

"Which part?" he asked, pulling out a box of eggs and a carton of rice.

"Picking me up."

"…" Seto turned around slowly, "Come again?"

"At the bar," Yami said, rubbing his temples, "All I remember is going there after--…" he trailed off meaningfully, then continued, "Anyway, I assume you must have found me and brought me here. So, thanks." he said, giving Seto a weak smile.

Seto stared blankly at Yami.

"Yeah… something like that."

"I just hope someone didn't give you that while you were helping me," Yami said, indicating his own forehead. Seto reached up and felt the long, thin cut on his forehead. He had forgotten to bandage it.

"N-No, that was… my fault," he replied.

"Alright, well." Yami took another sip of his coffee, "Thank you again."

"… Right. Sure." Seto replied slowly, then turned back to the stove, a substantial knot having formed in his stomach.

Of course. Of course this would happen to him. Of course Yami would be a black-out fucking drunk. Of course he wouldn't remember breaking and entering, assaulting the owner of the house, or throwing up on a four-thousand dollar couch. Of course he wouldn't remember all Seto did to bring him back from the brink of losing it.

Of course.

"… Son-of-a-bitch…"

Yami looked up.

"What, Kaiba?" he asked, still massaging his temples.

"Nothing," Seto said without turning around, "I was talking to my eggs…"

They sat in silence while Seto prepared something to eat. He didn't know why Yami not remembering last night's events at all should have bothered him. In fact, he should have been grateful Yami didn't recall how… scared he had made Seto last night, for Yami's well-being as well as his own.

Seto paused in the middle of chopping up a bell pepper. Had he been scared for Yami's safety? After all that had happened last night, Seto still wasn't sure about all the emotions that had fueled his words and his actions. Come to think of it, Yami hadn't explained last night why exactly he had come to Seto, why he had… made such strange advances. Seto guessed now he'd never know. Any feelings related to last night's events were likely buried deeper in Yami than Seto was willing to reach, whether Yami was drunk or otherwise.

He looked down at the knife he was using and turned it over in his hand. It was the same Yami had wielded last night. Seto supposed the reason he was so upset was because he felt almost as though every word he'd said to Yami, every effort he'd made to get through to someone who had lost so much, was worthless. The one time he had tried hard to make a difference in the lives of Yugi's friends, and it had meant nothing.

The kitchen was silent for a very long time, filled only with the sizzling of a breakfast stir-fry being made.

Eventually, after several solid minutes of silence, Yami spoke up.

"Kaiba, if I ask you something, will you answer honestly?" he said, sounding as though he had a lot on his mind.

"Mutou," Seto chuckled, pushing the eggs and rice around in the pan, "you know that of all my faults, sugar-coating the truth is not one of them."

Yami should have laughed there, but of course, he didn't.

"Do you… care that Yugi is gone at all?" he asked slowly. Seto lowered the stove temperature a little and took a sip of his coffee before he turned to look at Yami. His rival was staring at him evenly. It was a while before he answered, but Yami seemed to know that he was considering the question very carefully, so he didn't interrupt him.

"Honestly," Seto began, just as slowly as Yami had, "I didn't know him well enough personally to feel much beyond shock. It was hard for me to believe; still is." he said.

The look Yami gave Seto, though unsurprised, was no less acidic.

"… Yes, I do care that Yugi is gone." Seto said, trying his best to clarify, "He must've saved my life a hundred times in one way or another, you and he both. He was the most virtuous person I've ever met." He paused, and chuckled a little, "It honestly made me a little sick what a good person he was… But I'm not sorry for him." Yami's stare became a little more confused, though a little of the anger had still not dissipated.

"You know who, if anyone, people should feel sorry for?" Seto said, swishing the last of the coffee in his cup, "You." he stated quietly. Yami looked even more confused.

"Let me explain," Seto said, "Mazaki, Ryuuji, Honda… hell, even Jonouchi. But… mostly you; all of you have been left behind. Wherever Yugi is, I'm sure he's not suffering, if you buy into the whole afterlife, higher purpose thing, which I'm sure you do. But, you and his gang _are_ still here. _You're_ still suffering. And... I feel sorry for that, most of all." he muttered, and swigged the last of his coffee. He looked back at Yami, and was shocked to see how intensely he was watching him. After an awkward moment, Seto looked away to check on the stir-fry. He could still feel Yami's penetrating gaze on the back of his head. What was he trying to figure out, honestly? Hadn't he said all that he meant?

"Is… that not the answer you were looking for?" Seto said to the pan, "I answered as truthfully as I could." Yami said nothing.

Seto, amidst the awkward silence, ran a hand through his hair and refilled his coffee. For the rest of the next hour, Yami sat at the counter, immersed in either deep thought or extreme melancholy, perhaps both. Even after Seto served him a hangover-friendly breakfast, neither spoke much after that. Seto called Anzu in the next room as Yami pushed cold eggs and rice around on his plate in the kitchen.

"He's fine," he said to Anzu, "disturbingly pitiful, but unharmed," he sighed as he leaned against the alcohol and digestive fluid scented couch. He could feel Anzu biting back a remark relating to how insensitive he was being, even through the phone.

Maybe he was being insensitive, but again, Seto was honest to a fault. He wouldn't have gone as far to say he'd prefer Yami's near homicidal, domineering mindset better, but the atmosphere Yami was currently giving off was making Seto want to silt his own vital arteries.

"Thank you so much, Kaiba," Anzu said instead, her nose audibly stuffed up. Seto felt mildly guilty that he had not been able to call sooner. Anzu and the friendship bunch probably would have been spared a lot of stress, and probably would have slept more.

"Don't thank me, Mazaki," Seto muttered, looking past the doorway at a very defeated-looking Yami, "I owe Yugi at least this much."

They hung up after short good-bye's, and Seto rejoined the unresponsive man in the kitchen. Arriving less than fifteen minutes later, it was Jou who came for Yami. Jou gave Seto as much regard as he would a piece of garbage on the sidewalk. At least he didn't try to kick him like one, Seto thought. Neither tried to pick a fight. The only response Yami gave the young CEO as he left was a barely audible 'bye,' and Jou didn't even say one word the entire time.

It felt all wrong.

Seto shut the door behind Jou at 7:20 am. Even after hearing his car rev and speed off down the street, it was a while before Seto stepped away from the door.

Silently, Seto finished getting ready for work. The knot that had earlier former in his stomach had done nothing to lessen since he had talked to Yami.

* * *

Sorry if it was a little short. I think adding the next section would have made it too long, and I felt like with my additions, this could stand on it's own as a chapter... maybe. On a side-note, when did 'should've' and 'would've' stop becoming real words? Or am I just going insane? Were they ever really words???

Read and review if you could, thanks again for the watches and faves! :D


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